


there's husbandry in heaven

by protectoroffaeries



Series: they think me macbeth [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Devils, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Period-Typical Homophobia, References to Macbeth, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 05:31:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10181720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/protectoroffaeries/pseuds/protectoroffaeries
Summary: "There's husbandry in heaven; Their candles are all out."





	

**Author's Note:**

> vaguely historical, vaguely musical, mostly me: u decide which aspects come from which category 
> 
> comments are always loved and appreciated
> 
> and now for the perspective u never expected...

John is Henry Laurens’ pride; of this, there is no dispute. He is hard on his eldest, just as his own father was upon him. That, as time has shown, is the best way to create great and virtuous men from rambunctious boys.

Yes, Henry expects certain things of John. He expects that his son honor him and his family in everything that he does, whether it be schooling or soldiering, the latter of which John seems very insistent upon pursuing. He expects that after this messy war - which Henry will concede is a necessity - John  _ will  _ pursue a law degree. He expects that John supports the wife and child he left in England, which are no doubt missteps that he will attempt to avoid in the future. Henry does not think his expectations unreasonable; in fact, he allows John a little more freedom than is perhaps advisable.

But - it is not something John abuses, so Henry is not terribly concerned. His son is only a young man, after all. They need a bit of freedom, they make a few mistakes. John has done nothing irreversibly bad; indeed, he immediately took the correct course of action upon finding out about the unfortunate affliction he set on Martha Manning. The boy has some sense of responsibility.

Henry prays that he keeps that about him in the coming days, but then, few men take responsibility in war.

~

John has never cared much for women. He loves his mother, as all good children do, and he has a certain fondness for his dear sister Martha, but those are the normal bonds of family, completely unrelated to how he should feel about a number of other women; that is, those outside his family. But John never takes interest in any of them. None of Martha's friends catch his eye. He does not try to impress them or sneak out to see them. While he is at university in Geneva, and then in London, he does not write about Europe's great beauties.

The only time John has mentioned the fairer sex first is when he confessed his sins regarding Martha Manning.

God forgive him, but Henry was actually  _ relieved  _ to hear that his son had taken a woman to bed.

Henry is not blind. He noticed his son's lack of interest; he worried after it.

It seems his worries were for naught.

~

John is killed in a gunfight not far from Mepkin on the 27th of August, 1782. If the account of the tending doctor has any accuracy, he went slowly and painfully. No way for a man to die. There is no way for young men to die.

Henry wonders what he did, where he went wrong, that God thought it fit to take  _ two  _ of his sons, one his eldest, his heir, in just over a half decade.

He keeps a careful eye on his daughters, and especially on his single remaining son.

~ 

It is dear Martha, the sister of whom John was once so fond, who goes through his belongings, the few things he kept with him throughout his military service, when they arrive. She takes on the task as if it is the most sacred of duties.

Had Henry been in a more sensible state, he would've kept her from reading John's correspondence to and from his friends; the private conversation of young men is rarely appropriate for a young lady’s eyes.

But to her credit, Martha makes no further comment than, “Perhaps you should write Colonel Hamilton, Father,” when she places a few of John's letters on the edge of his desk.

~

Henry cannot himself to read the entirety of the letters.

They are deviant, depraved, cause for damnation! He feared that the Devil came to his poor son and whispered such sin under the cloak of night, but  _ this?  _ The Devil dressed in the airs of a soldier, in the airs of one of General Washington’s trusted, a Devil by the name of  _ Alexander Hamilton _ is something Henry could've never predicted.

Disgusting, degrading, disgracing; Henry should shame that Devil right back to Hell… but doing so would require admitting his own shame, the shame of his son, the shame of the  _ dead,  _ and Henry cannot do that.

He loves John too much to let this stain become his son's legacy.

Henry throws the letters into the fire, watches them catch fire and burn away until there is no evidence but ash. The fire in which the thick paper smolders is the only one alight; when Henry peers out into the blackness of the night, no Heavenly fires glitter overhead. Just as well.

He does not write Colonel Hamilton about John's passing.

~

_ Someone  _ writes Colonel Hamilton in his name, however. Henry knows because he receives a polite reply from the man's poor wife. He wonders if the girl knows how black her mate's soul is. He finds himself hoping that Colonel Hamilton is a clever Devil, the kind that can hide for years. Such a proper-sounding lady needs not to know of the monster lurking in her bed.

As for who wrote to the Colonel in the first place, Henry suspects Martha. She seems to be under the misguided impression that there was something  _ romantic  _ about her brother's fall from grace.

~

Frances-Eleanor has her father's eyes, a color reflective of springtime. She has his freckles, sprinkled across her face and neck. She has his attitude, just a touch too far on the side of independence for Henry's liking.

Never will he admit it, but Henry cries the night he meets her.

~


End file.
